My father always insists that I accompany him whenever he goes out. While we are together, he consistently interrupts the thoughts running through my mind. Despite this, I remain observant and only ask him a single question, "Where are we going?" Although he answers my question, I find myself wanting to know more about our destination. As we journey through the world around us, I absorb my surroundings, contemplating the lives of those around me. I am particularly fascinated by the coffee that people sip and accidentally spill, pondering the abstract shapes of the stains it leaves behind. As we continue on our way, the scenery changes, and the fields become visible again. I see herons flying above the rice fields, graceful and white as snow. I often ask my father about these birds, as I tend to forget about them. Sometimes, the herons land on the backs of carabaos to rest and wait for their prey. The trees, houses, fresh breeze, and heavy clouds all capture my attention. In these moments, it seems as if my father has given me a complete and fulfilling life. I believe my life would be even better if we traveled further from home. Nevertheless, we eventually return home, and I fall asleep, only to awaken as usual. I realize that my life would be greatly enriched if I could breathe in the fresh air of distant places to fill my soul.
YOU ARE READING
From The Pages of My Soul
ŞiirA second book of elevated railway of my emotions. Episodes I never knew I could write. Series I was afraid to dive in with words. This is a collection of poetry and prose originally written by my heart. Volume 2
